


[COMPILATIONS] Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys

by Black_Poison_Heart



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Poison_Heart/pseuds/Black_Poison_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of One-shots</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

FORENOTE: THESE ARE NOT ALL KILLJOY FAN-FICTIONS. THEY ARE BASED ON SONGS FROM THE ALBUM. THEY ARE NOT ALL CONNECTED. READ IN ANY ORDER. THEY ARE ONE-SHOTS. READ & ENJOY.


	2. Look Alive, Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draculoids. Lots of 'em. Doctor D. makes an appearance. KILLJOY ONE-SHOT.

_Look alive, Sunshine!_

_109 in the sky, but the pigs won't quit!_

_You're here with me, Doctor Death-Defying._

_I'll be your surgeon; your proctor; your helicopter!_

_Pumping out the slaught-o-matic sounds to keep you live._

_A system failure for the masses,_

_Anti-matter for the master plan!_

_Louder than God's revolver, and twice as shiny._

_This one's for all you rock-and-rollers;_

_All you crash-queens and motor-babies._

_Listen up!_

_The future is bulletproof!_

_The after-math is secondary!_

_It's time to do it now, and do it proud._

_KILLJOYS, MAKE SOME NOISE!!!_

 

 

I squatted behind an old oil drum.

 

BAM! The ray-gun blast made it obvious that there was nothing but collected, yellow desert sand was held in the metal drum - to which I was thankful. As I watched grains of an ancient sea-floor spew out of holes in the metal, I was thinking how lucky no petrol was in it's place for it would have exploded and there'd be some barbequed bitch for the Draculoids to kick.

 

"Look alive, Sunshine!" A male shouted from a few feet to my left. I dove forward and commando-rolled to the voice just as a grenade landed and promptly exploded where I had been position.

 

"Thanks, Bazaar," I breathed as I took the chance to spin around and onto my feet and send five purple lazar beams at one, two, three figures. The crumpled bodies around us were all the same: men in (once) toilet-bowl white jump-suits, wearing hideous  vampire-masks smeared with fresh blood and wild black hair. If the figures, the Draculoids, hadn't been armed with deadly ray guns, I would have laughed my head off at the ridiculous sight.

 

Bazaar was now standing beside me, and shot down the last vampire masked male, who was running towards the nearest motorbike, coloured white, also. The Draculoid fell face-first, only a metre from his bike.

 

"Did ya get hit, mate?" Bazaar asked, shoving his black ray gun into a brown leather holster on his right thigh. I looked at his old skater joggers, torn army pants, red singlet, dusty white coat one would wear at a wedding, and the welding mask which covered his tanned face. I traced the neon-green sad face spray-painted on mask.

 

"Nope, and you seem okay, yeah?" I replied, spinning  my purple and red-striped ray gun around my finger. Then it flew off my finger, planting itself into the dust. "Shit faced-muncher!" I cussed, then picked it up, shaking off the yellow grains of earth. Bazaar laughed.

 

"Shuddup. Hey, what's with the frowny-face?" I asked. The green emoticon wasn't on my mate's mask this morning when I woke up.

 

"We be killjoys, yeah?" Bazaar started to explain, taking the mask off, revealing his short, dark blonde hair, bright green eyes and a cheeky smile. "Well, if you look it up in the dictionary, 'killjoy' is someone who kills happiness, so making shit sad. So, use being rebels, killing Better Living's happiness and making them all "aww, sad panda". This me mocking them!" Bazaar laughed, and I grinned.

 

"True, ayye? So now, I've wanted to see what the Dracs look like," I said, sliding my  police-style sunglasses away from my forehead, where they held bright purple and blonde tinted fringe from my eyes. I used a glass-art marker to scrawl "EPiC" across the dark-tinted glass. Now without the blinding sun's rays bouncing off the bleached sand and into my eyes, I bent over a dead enemy. I paused for a moment before gripping the faux hair on the face mask, and ripped the rubber skin off.

 

Was Bazaar and I shocked to see that underneath, all there was a featureless face? A bump for a nose, small slits for what could be eyes and the rest was like a store mannequin. I knew that the Draculoids, these creatures, made noises are the fought, grunting, moaning, screaming... So I squeezed the cheeks to force open a mouth. The mouth was like a slash in the cold skin, and the flesh began to stitch itself back up, but leaving holes.

 

Bazaar muttered something to himself, and walked over the next Draculoid and pulled off it's mask. Another deformed face. Another Draculoid, another featureless skin.

 

"They're like the clones from 'Star Wars', only less developed."

 

"At least now I can feel better knowing that they aren't actual humans," I replied, standing back up, wiping my hands on my ultra-faded blue jeans. I adjusted and skull-print studded belt and tucked my yellow, long sleaved shirt into my pants. I glanced and the cartoon of a grim sun I had drawn on in permanent marker. "Hey, I wonder if they're smooth like a Ken doll after all!" I laughed.

 

Bazaar chuckled as well, remembering a joke between male killjoys: that the Draculoids were just pissed at us coz we have balls, and they're donned with a blank-spot. With my firemen boots, I nudged the enemy between the legs and started to laugh so hard.

 

"Bru.... Totally for reals!" I choked out. "They ain't got no junk!"

 

"No way..." Bazaar copied my actions, and we both couldn't breathe within a minute.

 

"Ah... Sunshine, this has been one awesome day. Now, let's get back." Bazaar said when he could speak. I nodded, and we walked around to the back of the nearby shack. We had stopped for a moment to have a snooze, when a hoard of Dracs jumped us.

 

Bazaar's ride was a motor bike he stole from a Draculoid, back in 2015. Four years on, and it was still purring like a kitten. He had  dumped buckets of paint all over the bike, so it was now a rainbow of colour. On the side, in silver paint, were the words 'Bazaar Night's Wheels'.

 

My own set of wheels were a bike I built from multiple Better Living Industries motorbikes and a car. Result: One pimped-out ride! There was a transmitter-modified radio, a CD player with loud speakers, fat wheels and an engine which was either silent for stealth or fiercely loud for inducing fear. Oh, and cup-holders. I coated my bike in yellow-painted steel, with "Sunshine Slut" painted on every sheet of metal.

 

Within moments of mounting our rides, we were tearing away from the sand-blasted shack, leaving it coated in a new sheen of dust and decorated with lazar burns and bodies.

 

~~~~

 

Zone 4: A series of limestone mounds, surrounded by wicked burred bushes. There's only one way through without being torn to pieces, and that was to jump it.

 

Bazaar and I rode a quarter-mile to the east around the thorny shrubs, and found a piece of rock that jutted a foot out of the stone and sand-covered ground, our ramp. Ten metres away from it was a tall, rocky shelf, too steep to scale, too crumbly to attach hooks into the cliff-face to climb. Any attempts would cause a sheet of sandstone to flake off and take you down to the hungry thorns below.

 

Us two killjoys approached the ramp at 50 miles an hour. Bazaar sailed ahead and landed smoothly on the shelf, then stopped to wait for me.

 

My bike being a heck of a lot heavier meant I had to lean back and use my weight to assist in raising the speeding bike from the glue of gravity.

 

On touch-down, the other male revved his engine and took off, me by his side, moving with the ragged contours of the land until we reached out base camp.

 

Brightly painted motorbikes, dusty camping tents and loud, heavy music signalled home.

 

"HEY!" Cried out a butch female. She was wearing patchy overalls, a light blue tank top and black steel-capped boots. Her face was a mirror of Bazaar's, her twin.

 

"Diamond Spark!" Bazaar called out as he killed his bike's engine, then jumped off the seat and hugged her. I joined the two and flicked her stumpy, green ponytail.

 

"Did you get the wireless working?" I asked Diamond, referring to our only radio which received Better Living's public radio waves. She nodded.

 

"Grinning Garry reported that it's one-oh-nine in the sky," She stated, grinning.

 

"Yeah, but the Pigs won't quit!" Bazaar groaned, scratching his neck. "Save any grub?"

 

"Yeah, and we got a visitor, too." His female half stated, walking to a tent in the middle of camp, where we all at.

 

Under the white canvas canopy was a dozen other killjoys who were gathered around a thirty-something year old man, with long dark hair held back with a brown bandana and a cool moustache that no-one else here could compete with.

 

"... so when that Draculoid looked me right and tight in the eyeball, I took my little gun and smiled at him. That monster growled at me like a grumpy gorilla as I simply muttered 'You're here with me: Doctor Death-Defying'. Then bang-bang, my name is the last thing old mate heard before joining the dust under my boots." The man, Doctor Death-Defying, had a deep south accent, and was so smooth that it captured everyone in the moment of his story.

 

The visitor looked up as Diamond, Bazaar and I walked toward him.

 

"Howdy, friends! I'm Doctor D, as you just heard." He said to us politely, taking off his sunnies, which were identical to mine - before I customised them. I mirrored his actions.

 

"I'm Bazaar Night, this gal's twin," Bazaar stated, nodding towards the butch killjoy. He shook hands with Doctor D, then I stepped forward.

 

"And I'm Sunshine Slut. 'Sunshine' for censored." I added, altering "for short" to suit the situation.

 

"Nice one, babies!" Doctor D stated, then stood up, smoothing down his black leather jacket. "I'm sorry, but I gotta run now. More Zones be a-calling and the twisted clocks keep drag-racing time. Play it safe, take your risks, and so long!" With that, the man walked out from the tent and out of sight, last we saw was his bright blue trousers and a gloved hands with leather bracelets on the tanned wrist.

 

"And he was..." I started to say, then dropped out as the other rebels moved on to grab a plate of food.

 

"Doctor Death-Defying. He runs a transmissions frequency for Killjoys. He jumps around, checking on the desert Zones in this area. He spreads hope. He is... Amazing." A boy of 16, the youngest at this camp, stated. He had a black Mohawk, red skinny jeans and a black a band t-shirt of some generic metal band from early 2000's. Not an out-there out fit for a killjoy, but he was still learning the ropes for our gang.

 

"Oh, okay. What was your name, again?" I added. Me: horrible with names.

 

Just after Diamond coughed the word 'hopeless', the young rebel replied "Dreams Sniper". I nodded and patted the boy's shoulder.

 

"Thanks, I'll, erm, try to remember. Now go get some grub!" I said. "All of us."

 

~~~~

 

Next day, I got Bazaar, Diamond and Sniper to come out into the desert with me to patrol.

 

"D'ya recon we might find a camel?" Asked the young 'un. I snorted.

 

"Fat chance. Try looking for snakes."

 

One hour, two hour, three hour...

 

"Whoa up, people!" Diamond shouted after a while. She was sitting behind her twin on his ride, and I had Sniper seated with me. I pulled to a stop next to the twins.

 

"Yes'm?"

 

"Block-out!" I nodded, and pulled a yellow pump bottle away from the body of my motor bike. I twisted in my seat to face the boy behind me.

 

"Put out your hand."

 

"Why?"

 

"So I can give you some cloud jizz to you rub on your skin so you don't get burnt." I had to talk to this kid like he was an idiot.

 

"I don't want to," Sniper said, trying to act cool, "I want to get a tan."

 

"Listen buddy," I killed the engine on my bike, kicked down the stand and got off the motor bike so I could look Sniper in the eye, directly. "I don't know what education you got, but listen here. You're out the desert, there's a lot of sun. What does the sun do? Ouch, it burns. Sun burn on your kin, painful now, make your skin peel and you may get a tan or a few freckles. Now, in ten year's time, you get skin cancer. Maybe it wont even take that long. Thing is, you get skin cancer, the only way you get rid of it is to march right into an Industries town. Bam, you give up being a rebel and you're on the pill. Only way to get the cancer out of you now. Coz if you stay out here with cancer, it spreads, you die. And we ain't got any surgeons out here, no medical equipment, go it? I don't mean to sound like an arse, but, you need the block-out. So, slather it on."  I ranted, the holding the yellow bottle out to Sniper. He must have understood me, for he immediately began to pump white cream into his palm and spread it on every patch of skin that had even a 0.000001% chance of ever coming into contact with UV rays.

 

I rubbed some of the sun block-out on my hands, face and neck. The rest of me was covered. I walked over to Bazaar and Diamond, who watched my mini-lecture.

 

"Teens don't listen to shit like that, not when we were kids," Bazaar muttered.

 

"That's because Dreams Sniper looks up to Sunshine Slut and admired him." Diamond put in, smiling. She had her green hair in a short ponytail again today.

 

It didn't really make me think anything different of the boy, knowing that he admires me. I was just happy to teach him survival skills and have another rebel to shit-stir the Industry. I walked back over to my bike, where the kid was still sitting.

 

"Hey, about the 'no surgeon's in the desert' thing?" He asked. I nodded. "Well, I could almost imagine if we did have one. Imagine what Doctor D would say to advertise his services.

 

"'Killjoy operations: tending to them troubles-some pests that piss you off more than the Draculoids! Desert Rain-Flower says "I'll be your surgeon, your proctor..."

 

"Your... Helicopter!" I shouted, feeling like it wax the right word. Sniper and I grinned.

 

I got an idea.

 

"I get the feeling that us four are bored. Lets shoot down some Draculoid arse!" I shouted, followed by three people whooping. Instantly, the two motorbikes were spraying dirt and pebbles in the air as the drivers cruised over the sand dunes, seeing fun.

 

I switched on the CD player with my left hand, keeping my right on the throttle. Best way to attract attention in the still, baked desert was to make a lot of noise. I hit the triangular "Play" button, and a rumbling drum, shrieking guitars, a sick bass and gruff vocals drowned out the roar of motors.  Any hoard of Draculoids who didn't hear us would be deaf.

 

I felt Sniper tap on my back. Morse code.

 

'Why the loud music?'

 

Using my left hands, I reached back and tapped his knee to reply.

 

'Pumping out the slaught-o-matic sounds to keep you live.'

 

I had to quickly put both hands on the handle bars to swing around a bush I spotted almost too late, then finished my message.

 

'It brings in the Dracs and gives us some danger so we know we're still living.'

 

Both hands were back on the bars as the song faded out to an end.

 

I turned and shouted over the whining wind "plus, the music is awesome."

 

After a few more metal songs blared pure noise over the desert, Bazaar veered off to the right, toward a lone, dead tree. Approaching the tree, a mile off to the west, was a dozen white motorbikes. Draculoids.

 

Diamond slid off the back of her brother's bike, landing with her foot out to the side as she crouched down, hand in the burning sand to steady herself. Bazaar kept driving forward until he reached the tree, where he parked. I followed him, leaving the CD player to blast the music. A fast-paced song is what you need to give a fight a real sense of "awesome".

 

The Draculoids were only a few hundred feet away, when the jumped off their rides, disregarding the fact that it was very damaging to their vehicles. They shot white lazar beams at us four killjoys, which we dodged too easily. These clones were bad shots.

 

Dreams Sniper stood to the back, and true to his name, took down some of the enemy at a distance. Diamond Spark was slashing at the legs of the Dracs with a pure steel hunting knife, then forward rolled to another Drac, then moved on before he knew what happened. Bazaar Night was using his ray gun to bash the clones then blasting their faces with black rays of light. And I danced around in the middle, shooting the Dracs wherever my shots landed. To make it more of a game, I wasn't allowed to stand in any shadows, otherwise I have to run in front of the next ray-gun shot I saw.

 

Dumb, yes.

 

Fun? YES!!!!!!

 

Our fun lasted about ten minutes, seeing as no-one really wanted to kill off too many Dracs at once. There were about twenty-five of the vampire-masked freaks all up. Or corpses, should I say, when I got round to counting them. I grinned, and turned back to the others, who decided not to get into the throng as I did.

 

But, it was as if I had jumped into some badly written story I've had the misfortune to read, for one of the Draculoids managed to titch their hand up a bit, and attempted to shoot me. He missed and I started to laugh. Sniper, however panicked, and the moment he saw white light emerging from the enemy's gun, he let loose a few shots from his own ray gun. Two of the sunk into them Drac, killing it. The third deviated from it's path, and struck me in the stomach, burning right through one of the marker lines on my coloured shirt and eat away at my flesh.

 

"OOOOW, MOTHER FUCK- AHHH!!!!!!!" I screamed in agony. I don't care what anyone says, ray-gun blasts hurt to the extreme.

 

"Sunshine!" Diamond screamed, and ran towards me. Bazaar was beside her.

 

Sniper was walking forwards, eyes wide and shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!!!!!!"

 

"Dude..." Bazaar said, his eyes were wide too. He ripped my shirt up, so he could see the wound.

 

"Where..." I choked out.

 

"It just missed your stomach. And it struck a centimetre away from your lungs. Um..." Diamond stated. I think she was going to add on the customary  "you'll be okay" to the end, but our band of rebels know it's better to say the truth through gritted teeth than to sugar-coat it and speak what you don't believe. And she didn't know if I would live.

 

"I'm sorry, Sunshine. Seriously-" I waved my hand to cut the newbie's apology off. I sat up, biting my lip in pain.

 

"Don't worry, Sniper." I said, now on my feet.  "Look, we have to get back to camp now, or,"

 

"It's a system failure for the masses." Sniper nodded, "We'd be in shit without you leading our gang in Zone 4."

 

"I don't lead," I muttered, then straightened up. I walked to my bike, and wrapped my right arm over to the left of me, to cover my stomach and burn. I turned off the music, which left the desert silent.  "Sniper, you're going to have to drive me home. Do you know how to drive a motorcycle?" He nodded.

 

"Sure you don't want me-"

 

"He needs to learn, Diamond."  I cut the girl off, and she nodded.

 

Sniper sat in my seat, and I was behind him. I just ran over how to start the bike, and the 16 year old attempted to started it.

 

Motor start. Revs. Stall.

 

Motor start. Revs. Stall.

 

Stall. Stall. Stall. Stall. Stall....

 

"STOP STALLING MY FUCKING BIKE!" I shouted, wincing when the action caused my wound to shoot darning pins through my chest. "You hold in the clutch, start in 'Neutral', push the gear down into 'First', then let the clutch out slowly and rev at the same time. Ride her out on the clutch for a bit, then slowly let the rest out."

 

Sniper followed my directions, not stalling this time. When I heard that the bike was starting to choke on too-high revving, I leaned forward and shouted "Now, hold in the clutch, put your foot under the gear-stick and push it up into 'Neutral', then 'Second'."

 

In a few minutes of picking up speed, Bazaar and Diamond were thundering across the desert with us, headed back to camp.

 

When we got there, Diamond ran to get a first aid pack. A few of the other killjoys watched. The others kept doing their own thing - wounds like this were common. Bazaar helped me into a tent we both shared. The pain from the ray-gun shot had gone down a tic, but now I was more focused in whether it would get infected, and how much of the bloody desert had crept into the hole on my torso.

 

"I'm back!" Diamond shouted, rushing forwards. He pulled a tube out of her overalls, and squeezed some of it's insides on a patch of gauze.

 

"What's that?" Bazaar asked. His twin rolled her eyes.

 

"Anti-septic."

 

"You know," I started to add, making Bazaar feel dumber, "anti-matter for the master plan of little germies which want to kill me."

 

Bazaar said nothing, and took Diamond's patch of gauze and put it to my flesh, slowly  wiping the wound, and scraping the sand out. I had to try hard not so yelp as the rough texture of the sand grated against my flesh: it was like cleaning my insides with sand paper.

 

Eventually, I think I blacked out, because I woke up with bandages around my chest. I rolled off the sleeping bag I was on, and crawled outside. There were storm clouds sprawled across the sky.

 

"You were asleep for an hour and a half."

 

"Really?" I turned to see Sniper sitting next to the tent entrance. I was too busy gazing at the twisted shapes of the grey clouds in the sky, carved by high winds, to notice the teenager.

 

"Any news from Grinning Garry?" I asked, stretching out. A dog biting my insides reminded me that I was still hurt. Ouch.

 

"Only rain. But that's for the City." I nodded. It never rained out here, it was as if the Industry was controlling the weather now, too.

 

"Hey, do you have any food?" I asked, as I felt another dog growl inside of me. I hadn't eaten since last night. I skipped brekky, for I only believe in eating after I did something deserving of food. Like taking down some Draculoids. Or stealing some supplies. Or "borrowing without permission" Bazaar's motorbike (which is a feat and a half) to do some made jumps and tricks. So, when I was being lazy, I got skinny and hungry til I get round to doing something so I could stop being hungry. Also, if we were short of food, which we normally are, it would last slightly longer or feed more people.

 

Sniper tossed me a can, labelled 'Power Pup'.

 

"Dog food. Is that all we have left, AGAIN?" I asked, groaning on the inside. The growling dog started to whimper.

 

"No-body else likes that shit, so it's always the last to go. But there's a few Killjoys out trying to get some real food."

 

I could either wait or eat this shit now. Going without wasn't an option, for I knew I needed something in my belly to heal wounds.

 

I peeled the lid off the 'Power Pup' and grimaced.

 

"Eww..." The smell of... Mystery meat filled my nostrils. I scrunched my nose, and spooned in a mouthful. I used brainpower and wishful thinking to convince my tongue it wasn't being assaulted, but blessed with meatloaf. I spooned in another mouthful and chewed. Chew, chew, swallow. More 'meatloaf': chew, chew swallow. 'Meatloaf'. Chew, chew swallow.

 

I reached the bottom of the can. One pound of dog food in my gut. One pound of which I would have to make sure I don't spew up later.

 

Thunder rumbled from the dark clouds, natures sun-shade. I saw them as "God's revolver". Loud thunder the boom, the hail it's shells. I could smell the rain, even though it was falling miles off. It used to be such a sweet smell, but now it was acidic. The desert didn't get rain anymore: Just a burning downpour as a result of pollution. This world is sick, and the Industry was just sticking a smiling plaster over it, not healing but hiding the problems.

 

BAM! I heard a shot and saw a mound of the surrounding sandstone shudder. The fuck...

 

BAM! Even louder now, twice as louder than thunder. Dreams Sniper and I jumped on my motor bike, the boy driving, and we tore off to the shuddering pillar of stone. I was glad to see Sniper wasn't stalling my baby. I wasn't too glad to see that I just remembered that I was shirtless, revealing my skinny ribs to the world. Even Sniper was more of a tank than me, but I was still pretty strong.

 

When we heard the third and fourth boom, Sniper slammed on the brakes, us both lurching forward. We both jumped off the bike, me kicking down the stand for it to remain standing - when my motorbike falls over, it takes FOREVER to pick up, it's too heavy!

 

BAM!

 

Leaning over the ledge on our bellies, we saw that below the cliff were hoards of Draculoids. They had a rocket-launcher. A FUCKING rocket-launcher! In trademark-white.

 

We watched as it took a minute to for five Dracs to load the launcher and to fire a missile. At the opposite cliff. Then another minute to repeat. Each blast caused part of the rock to crumble and fall. And the light from the explosions was blinding, twice as much as the lightning.

 

"Trying to knock down that mound, then come through to get us, I bet!" Sniper muttered. The kid's idea was plausible. I wiggled back and sat on my bike as I picked up my radio to speak into it.

 

"This one's for all you rock-and-rollers in Zone 4. We have a problem, and this ain't a small stone in our boots. The sandstone cliffs are being blasted out, that's right babies, BLASTED, by them pigs, them Industry slaves, them Draculoids. Assistance needed by all y'all who can get here within the hour. Attacks on the West side, into the setting sun. This is Sunshine Slut signing off, and hoping to see you soon. "

 

I put the radio mouth-piece back down, and slid back so Sniper could take the wheel... Erm, handle bars.

 

At camp, everyone must have heard my announcement.

 

"Is it true?" Bazaar asked when I jumped off my bike, and stood up on an up-turned milk crate, so I was above everyone's head and shoulders. I nodded at him and cleared my throat.

 

"All you Crash-Queens and Motor Babies, come on over." I yelled. I ran my hand through my short, spiky hair, ruffling the locks of blonde and aubergine. "You guys must have heard my announcement, so here's the situation: we all be in danger if we allow the Dracs to continue on with destroying our own natural fortress. They are continuing to ruin this planet we are tied to! They aren't even human! We have to fight back, and protect ourselves, for if we don't, we will die, as this Earth is dying. Or we'll be taken to the Industry cities and forced on that poison which causes us to oblige without a second though. Freedom: gone!"

 

The 15 killjoys around me started to yell out in agreement.

 

"So!" I shouted above everyone, "Get yourselves ready! Charge you weapons, gather supplies and sharpen you knives. Within the hour, we fight!"

 

"We gotta fight for our right... To PARTY!!!!!" Shouted out Diamond Spark, and everyone started to commenced to sing our Killjoy version of Beastie Boy's song 'Fight For Your Right'.

 

~~~~

 

In the next hour, we all assembled just out of sight from the Draculoids. We counted them up, over two hundred. A few bands of other killjoys radioed in, and Bazaar told them where to hide so they could attack from behind.

 

"This will work, yeah?" Sniper asked me, handing me a new, yellow shirt. I quickly pulled it on, uncapped a permanent marker from the side of my bike and drew on another grim, cartoon sun. I needed to keep up my image.

 

"Hmm, probably not. But if we take down even just three Dracs, that's three less bastards in the world, yeah?" I said, then picked up a megaphone. Then I pulled my purple and red ray gun out of my holster, and ran out from our hiding spot and into view of the Draculoids. I took a dozen pills of painkillers. It was stupid, because it would destroy my liver, but it had numbed the pain to the point where I would be able to fight without biting a hole through my tongue.

 

"Listen up! We're taking you twats DOWN!" I screamed into the megaphone. The  Draculoids looked up at me. If they had a real face, they may have been shocked. I took my ray gun and started to fire purple beams at their missile launcher twenty consecutive shots caused it to crumple and cause a small-scaled explosion, killing maybe twenty of the enemy.

 

Now that the massive weapon was destroyed, the other killjoys jumped up and started to shoot at the Draculoids. The air was full of lazar beams: white, black, purple, yellow, blue, orange, green, brown... Every colour of the rainbow.

 

The vampire-masked enemies had no-where to hide, but behind their motorbikes, which were eventually blown up by the blasts. So many Draculoids fell, bam, bam, bam, falling, thump, crush, scream. Many of us were hit too. I got grazed in the arm by a Draculoid shot, but my overdose of pain killers meant I didn't feel anything. I just kept shooting. Pow, pow, pow, pow. Kill, kill, missed, kill.

 

We were winning.

 

The hum of many vans masked the noise of our shooting weapons'. Vans  drove up behind the Killjoys who were attacking from behind. Vans which were Industry white.

 

"Sunshine, there's more!!!" Someone on my side of the throng shouted. The back-up killjoys saw the vans and cried out, some running towards us, others shooting at the vans. The persons in the van shot back. Killjoys crumpled to the dirt.

 

I bit my lip then, using my megaphone I was still holding, shouted out "FALL BACK! GROUP TOGETHER!"

 

In a minute, the surviving Killjoys were behind me. I turned towards them, and listened to the vans' break screech as they stopped on the loose pebbles. I knew I only had a few moments to speak.

 

"Look," I said without the megaphone, "We're fucked here, so run if you want. Go, now, and no-one, NO-ONE will think any different. Coz you gotta be alive to cause trouble and to try and stop Better Living Industries. I would run too, but I gotta help anyone who chooses to stay. So, who wants to run?" No-body said anything. Then I saw that about five of our troops were still kids. "Okay, I appreciate your bravery, but you five," I pointed to the teenagers in the group, "have to run. Don't argue. You are our future. The future is bulletproof! It's up to you guys to carry on." The kids looked pained to, but turned and ran through the sandstone pillars, disappearing from view. I knew they would run, hide, fight another day.

 

"The rest of ya, lets take these mother-fuckers down!" Diamond shouted, and we all screamed as we rushed towards the white Industry vans, where Draculoids were piling out. One fell, and another white jump-suit took it's place. And another and another. Then they rushed forwards at us.

 

I got another shot, in the leg. I stumbled, and face-planted. I lifted my face out of the dust and spit out sand. Someone from behind pulled me to my feet: Dreams Sniper!

 

"Sniper, you have to go. All the teenagers have to go!" I  cried out at him. He shook his head.

 

"The aftermath is secondary. I run, they find me, I die anyway. I wanna die here, in battle and outnumbered. That's how a Killjoy should go out." The younger boy said to me. No, he's no longer a boy: He's a man. My lip twitched into a smile, and I grabbed his shoulder.

 

"Then it's time to do it now!" I said, and we started to run back towards the vans.

 

"And do it proud!" Sniper yelled, joining me. Now, more killjoys had fallen, and there were even more Draculoids. But still, we charged, closing the distance. Dreams Sniper and I shot and shot and shot. Now there was only a few Killjoys still running.

 

"I'm Sunshine Slut," I screamed at the top of my lungs. "I am a Killjoy of the desert. Now Killjoys, MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!!!!"

 

The last of us screamed and roared just as the last metre of desert sand, pebbles and corpses disappeared between us.

 

L.S.E

XOXO


End file.
